


Armor to Keep You Safe

by RelicIron



Series: Mercenary [6]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Arcann is crushing so hard it's painful to watch, Cultural Differences, First Kiss, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Zakuulan Culture, alternate Alliance Alert scene, it all works out in the end, poor long suffering Senya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25141789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelicIron/pseuds/RelicIron
Summary: Two grown men fall for each other and they're both too chicken to come out and say it.It's embarrassing.Thankfully, after some overthinking and a good kick from Senya, Caden ponies up and asks.
Relationships: Male Bounty Hunter/Arcann
Series: Mercenary [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1833691
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. Unmasked Regret

**Author's Note:**

> I am the firm believer that Mirialans are a repto-mammal people, so the scales and throat blushing are from that. If you want to read my thoughts on that, they're on my tumblr along with art of Caden at reliciron.  
> And I haven’t written a fic for it, but I headcanon that when Arcann went in the Outlander’s mind to help kill Valkorian, he was there long enough to create an accidental Force bond.  
> I also believe the cut content from the game that says the non-Force user classes now have a connection to the Force thanks to Valkorian’s meddling.

Arcann looks pensive, standing there on the edge of the cliffs on the outer docking port, and Caden relaxes minutely. ‘I need to talk to you in private’ sounded so ominous that he’d been worried after reading the message. But he looks calm, so Caden tries to corral his own emotions into something similar. If Arcann can sense him through the link they share, he seems to be doing Caden the courtesy of staying silent.

He looks good in the sunlight, he thinks to himself, as he makes his approach from the front of his Mantis to the ledge Arcann’s picked. Those hunting trips he’d taken him on had given him a little color and helped calm that wary nervousness that Caden felt whenever he was near.

It made him happy that the man finally seemed to be adjusting to his new life, and the more time he spent with him, the more he realized that he actually liked the ‘new’ Arcann.

And not just as a prospective new friend and hunting buddy.

It was a feeling he didn’t experience often, and almost never welcomed. His damned heart never seemed to pick people that were available or interested in return, and always just made things more complicated.

That it seemed dead set on Arcann of all people, was… not ideal.

He shook himself.

Arcann wanted to talk, and weird feelings would only get in the way, so he did his best to push them aside as he finally reached him.

“I never thought I would stand on Odessen as anything but a conqueror. So much has changed.”

Arcann’s tone is thoughtful and hushed, but after a moment Caden prompts him on.

“You wanted to talk?”

He nods before turning slowly, almost hesitantly, and Caden can see he’s holding something.

“I… have something for you. A gift,” Arcann won’t meet his eyes and while Caden’s pretty shit at reading him through the bond, even **he** can feel the nervous energy positively humming around the man.

“When I was young, the Knights of Zakuul, taught me to forge my own armor. I’ve worked on this piece since I arrived on Odessen.”

Caden remembered. It was the first place they really spent time together, even if it wasn’t on purpose. He’d wander over to work on his guns or help the other armstechs service the hundreds of weapons that ended up in their ‘fix-it’ box. And when he would arrive: there was Arcann, hunched over the armormech machinery and using the old-school forge.

So that’s what he’d been doing.

Caden takes the offered bundle and carefully unfolds it (as much as you can ‘unfold’ armor, anyway). If the man was offering up his own craftsmanship, the least Caden could do was give it a good look.

The mesh material felt tough, at least as good as his own under suit, but much softer and lighter. He would definitely have to try that out, and pale gold would look nice on his skin. He flops it over one arm and inspects the handful of unattached plates that were wrapped inside.

Although the style was definitely Zakuulan, to his surprise, the clips and catches were clearly designed for his own Mandalorian armor. From the looks of things, it was a set of pauldrons and matching cuisses for his legs, all a warm burnished gold with minimalist designs carefully engraved across the surface.

“Damn," he murmurs, impressed.

Wait.

"How’d you get the catches right?”

Arcann ducks his head and smiles slightly with the praise, “I asked Torian, he let me take measurements from an old set of yours.”

Caden taps one of the plates and hears the distinctive tone, “Zakuulan steel?”

He huffs in mild amusement, “Of course you would be able to tell, but yes, it is. I understand that your helmet, chest plate, and bracers are beskar, so I only made the pieces you see. My people’s steel is stronger than durasteel, but it’s still no match for your beskar.”

He smiles, but there’s a pained edge to it as he no doubt remembers their battles when his lightsaber literally bounced off Caden.

If it hadn’t been for the beskar, he’d be dead several times over.

He shakes his head and traces the detailing along the seam of one of the cuisses.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.. really.”

He nods and shifts in place.

“I… If I am ever unable to fight by your side, I want to ensure you’re protected.”

Aaaaaand the world comes to a screeching halt for Caden.

Being immersed in Mando culture for years has taught him a lot of things. And being the Great Hunt Champion along with Mandalore’s chosen and clanmate, meant he was considered a hell of a catch. So he has, unwillingly, a very good understanding of Mando courting. And this…

Giving a friend hand-made armor is a little weird, but acceptable if you’re really close.

But giving them armor and saying shit like THAT?

How the hell was Caden supposed to take that?!

He knew, he KNEW that Arcann wouldn’t know about Mando courting, that this wasn’t meant that way, but stars take him it was a struggle to drag his mind away from it. A struggle made even worse by his own budding attraction. He was making more of this that it really was. For all he knew, this was a normal bonding thing for Knights of Zakuul.

He was making a face, he could tell, and whatever it was was worrying Arcann the longer Caden was silent.

His throat must be bright red by now in a blush heavy enough to seep through his scales.

Fuck, he needed… he needed to say something before he scared the poor bastard off.

“If I’d known we were trading gifts I would’a brought something.”

It came out a little higher pitched than he’d hoped.

Arcann looked unnerved, but seemed to plow ahead anyways.

“The new life you’ve given me is more than enough.”

He hesitates and Caden’s secretly relieved to have a few extra seconds to try to collect himself.

“There’s… something else I need to say.”

 _I’m not sure how much more I can take, man_ , he thinks to himself. But Arcann sounds just as nervous as Caden feels, so he takes some comfort in that.

“Until now, I only felt hatred for others- especially for you. But you showed compassion I didn’t deserve and eliminated the darkness threatening to consume me.”

He shifts continuously, eyes flicking everywhere except Caden’s face. Fuck, he must have made him uncomfortable, great.

“Everything I am, is because of you. And I’ll spend a lifetime, thanking you for it.”

It takes a minute to swallow passed the lump in his throat.

_He didn’t mean it that way, quit reading into it!_

“Senya believed you still had some good in you,” he shrugs, “ and I believed Senya. I’m just the guy who helped knock some sense into you. You’re the one you has to work every day to keep it up.”

Arcann blinks in surprise.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he says, “I’ve seen you struggle with sparing people when we’re out in the field. You talk slower when you’re angry, like you’re thinkin’ over the words and don’t want to raise your voice. And I know how hard the rest of the Alliance is on you.”

Caden cracks a smile at him.  
“It’d be easier to kill everyone, snap at people, and intimidate the others into leaving you alone, but you don’t. You’ve been working hard to stay on track.”

His fading blush returns with a vengeance and he feels like a schoolgirl complimenting her crush, “I know Senya’s proud of you, and... I am too.”

Arcann’s eyes go wide and his lips part, he looks… something.

“I… You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

Caden smiles but before he can think to say anything, his damn comm goes off.

He briefly considers flinging the hunk of junk over the cliff but he’s a commander now, commanders shouldn’t act like a petulant kid.

And Lana was going to hurt him if he ‘lost’ another one.

His irritation must be obvious as Arcann huffs a laugh.

“No rest for the wicked, then?”

“Yeah, guess those Cartel ambassadors finally decided to get their shit together.”

He clutches the armor to his chest to make sure he doesn’t drop any of the pieces, but turns back before walking up the gangplank.

“I’ll see you later at the usual time?”

Cadens waits for his nod, before finally leaving the docking port.


	2. Overthinking

It’s several hours before Caden finally manages to bail out from command central, complaining of a headache that wasn’t completely a lie and gathering up Arcann's gift where he'd left it next to a console.

It’d been difficult to concentrate on the dry legal babble of the Cartel delegate, and Lana had clearly noticed. Thankfully she’d mostly taken over the negotiations so he could fall back on the far more comfortable role of ‘scary looking muscle’ that he’d long since perfected.

It had freed up head space for him to continue his circular arguments about what exactly Arcann had meant by giving him the armor.

On the one hand, he felt safe in the knowledge that Arcann wouldn’t know enough about Mando culture to understand the significance of his gift. On the other, Caden didn’t understand enough about Zakuulan culture to know if there was some sort of ulterior meaning, but with Arcann’s clear nervousness and… well… the things he said, he was inclined to believe there was something else being said there.

He was just worried that his own hope was coloring his interpretation.

Because really, Caden had done some amazing shit, sure, but at the end of the day he was still just a mercenary. A very skilled, very expensive mercenary, but a mercenary all the same.

Arcann was, and he supposed still _**is**_ , royalty. His initial reaction when they’d first met, praising his accomplishments in a tone positively dripping with sarcasm, had told Caden all he really needed to know about Arcann’s opinion of him.

He knew things were different now, that he’d had earned Arcann’s respect as a warrior, but it was one thing to respect a man, but it was entirely different to have feelings for him.

And then there was the issue of his race.

After being captured, he’d felt the stares sweeping over his green skin and snagging on his tattoos. Their reactions had made it obvious that they had little experience with non-humans. Since joining the Alliance, and being around Caden in a relaxed environment, he’d often felt the same sort of stares from Arcann.

Plenty of humans weren’t attracted to his people, just as plenty of his people weren’t interested in humans. Was he just a source of curiosity for Arcann, or did he actually like what he saw?

And for that matter, was he even attracted to men?

Caden sighed as he massaged his temples.

There were too many variables, too many ways he could be reading into this, or misunderstanding a perfectly innocent gift.

Too many reasons why Arcann wouldn’t be interested in him.

Although…

He stopped in the hallway, just outside the command center.

He was too much of a coward to ask Arcann at the moment, but Senya… she would know if there were any significance to his gift.

A quick check to his chronometer, and he swiftly changes course from his room to the Force Enclave. During late afternoon, Senya could usually be found mediating near the waterfall, and if he hurried she would hopefully still be there.

He hustled passed several people along the way, barely managing not to run into them, before he finally made it inside.

To his relief, Senya was still there, standing near the back, gathering up her things to leave.

Its only when he’s reached her that he realizes that he’s still clutching the armor Arcann had given him.

Well, so much for asking her in hypotheticals.

She clearly sensed his presence and turned with a questioning look on her face.

“Vega, is something wrong? You seem… unsettled.”

He laughs, but even he can tell it sounds uncomfortable. Still, he plows ahead.

“Have a quick Zakuul question for you, uh… you mind coming with me?”

She nods and picks up her bag before falling into step alongside him.

The waterfall was too loud to talk by, and even if it wasn’t, he didn’t really want anyone else overhearing them.

He leads her out of the Enclave and down the hall a bit until they reach a dead end where a damaged door had yet to be repaired from Vaylin’s invasion.

She laughs softly, “Are you going to ask me this mysterious question now, or should I start guessing?”

It pulls an amused huff from him, but he does relax a little.

This was Senya, he trusted her, and she was insightful enough not to rib him over something he was uncomfortable about.

“Ok, so… does it mean anything special when someone makes you armor? Or is that just a normal thing you Knights do?”

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline as her eyes immediately fall to the bundle tucked in Caden’s arms.

“That… why do you ask?”

“Just… please, I’m kinda out of my depth here,” he says with a wince, watching as her gaze travels over the design of one of the exposed plates.

He could practically hear the pieces click together in her head and he suddenly realizes that asking Arcann’s _**mother**_ for advice about this might’ve been a bad idea.

She looks back up at him with shock written across her face before immediately smoothing it out and clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft when she speaks, and Caden gets the sense that he’s being talked to like a tauntaun about to bolt.

“It is… very unusual for a Knight to present another with armor, even more so when its armor he made himself.”

‘ _ **Him**_ _-self_ ’, stars, she definitely knew and Caden was mortified.

“May I?” she asks, indicating the armor.

He nods dumbly and holds it out for her inspection.

She takes a plate and studies the engraving as she spreads her fingers over the metal.

After turning it around in her hands a few times she puts it back down and picks up the sleeve of the under suit, feeling the mesh between her fingers and testing the stretch.

At the end of it, she steps back and raises a fist to her lips, trying to hide a smile behind her fingers.

Stars, just kill him now.

“This is very well made, a lot of care went into it’s creation, did he say anything when he gave it to you?”

Well, at least she was doing him the courtesy of not actually naming names. It let Caden hide some of his embarrassment behind a veil of plausible deniablility. A completely see-through veil, but it gave him a little comfort anyways.

“He uh… he said he wanted me to be safe, even if he wasn’t there.” He’s pretty sure his head would explode if he told her the rest of it, so he leaves that out.

Still, he hears a bitten off laugh, and when he looks up she’s doing a poor job of hiding her grin.

_Come on Vega, you can get through this, just make sure you fully understand then you can run off with your tail between your legs._

“So that’s not something you guys do as a… friend thing.” Stars his throat must be neon pink at this point.

“No, it isn’t, but maybe you should ask him if there were any other intentions to his gift instead of questioning me,” she looks so damn smug. Assuming Arcann really was interested, Caden had a feeling she was never going to let him forget this.

“Great! I should... probably go do that, you enjoy your… post-mediation… stuff, I gotta go.”

It was definitely not his smoothest exit, and he could hear her helpless laughter echoing behind him as he beat a hasty retreat down the hall.


	3. Confessions

It’s maddeningly quiet in Caden’s quarters, as he and Arcann go over their respective piles of reports.

What had originally started as a way of keeping an eye on the man during his off-hours, had quickly turned into a daily meeting that they both enjoyed. They’d simply read in silence, breaking it occasionally when one of them needed to talk something out, or share an amusing bit from the text. The quiet comradery was a welcome relief for both of them after a day of working in the bustling command center.

Except this time.

This time, Caden was quietly going insane.

After their heart to heart on the shuttle port, and his mortifying talk with Senya, he wasn’t sure what to believe.

Or rather he DID know, he was just too afraid to ask the damn question.

The gift, the sentiment Arcann had told him was behind it, his subsequent speech, and Senya’s confirmation of Zakuulan culture, left Caden feeling fairly confident that there was more to his gift than Arcann had been letting on.

But the chance of screwing up their odd little friendship was almost too much of a risk.

Still, after an entire day of getting absolutely nothing done and feeling no closer to a conclusion, he had little choice left.

He pulled his gaze away from the datapad he hadn’t been reading and looked over Arcann.

He’d been a little more quiet than usual, after their talk, but when he’d entered Caden’s room and saw the armor stand with the new pieces attached, he was fairly certain he’d caught a faint blush rise over the man’s cheeks.

Caden swallowed.

These things were always a gamble, but… he had to ask.

“Hey… Arcann?”

He looked up from his datapad and Caden must’ve had a weird look on his face, because he frowned immediately and turned off his pad.

“What is it?”

Caden pulled at his lip with his teeth, worrying a sharp fang over the skin as he ordered his thoughts.

“Do you… How much do you know about Mandalorians? The culture, I mean.”

The frown deepened with confusion.

“Not very much, I’m afraid. You’re hunters, of both men and beasts. And you have a sort of honor code,” he said, words slow and unsure.

“At the core, yeah, but its more than that. We’ve got our own rituals and traditions and stuff.”

A self-conscious laugh bubbled up, “I’m definitely no expert, I was only adopted in as an adult, but I’ve been with them long enough to know a few things.”

He paused, Arcann was looking at him expectantly, wondering where he was going with this, and Caden knew he was stalling.

“Ah… It’s just… for Mandos, certain gifts mean different things, and…uh… armor, especially hand-made armor, is usually something you give as a… a courting gift.”

It feels like pulling teeth to force the words out and its a monumental effort to look back at Arcann once he’s managed it.

He looks… not good, shocked was probably a good word for it though.

But even with his dull sense of the Force, Caden can feel the pulse of _**fear**_ that ripples through the bond between them.

“I… I did not know.”

Its all he manages to get out and Caden almost hits himself when he realizes that there wasn’t actually a question in what he’d said.

“Figured you didn’t, but still… with the stuff you said, it made me wonder… did giving me that armor mean more than what you said?”

The fear he’d felt from Arcann through the bond is nearing panic, and the shock has broken into a hunted look, but he HAS to know.

“You have feelings for me?”

Caden watches the struggle play out across Arcann’s face. The man’s been surprisingly expressive ever since joining the Alliance, but he supposes you tend to lose your poker face when you’ve been wearing a mask for years.

The silence stretches on and the longer it goes, the more fear he can feel radiating off Arcann, and the more worried he gets.

Just before he can’t take it anymore, Arcann hangs his head and seems to sag in defeat.

“I… yes, Commander… I do.”

There’s barely time for it to sink in (but enough to notice the use of his title instead of his name) before Arcann continues in an increasingly panicked tone.

“You… have my deepest apologies, Commander. I know my feelings are inappropriate. I never intended for you to know, but I fully understand if you would prefer to send me away to one of the outer rim outpo-”

“Hey, woah, easy now,” he tries. Reaching out a placating hand to grip his shoulder, only to feel him stiffen under the touch.

Arcann won’t look at him.

Stars above, he’s practically _shaking_.

“Your friendship means everything to me,” he whispers helplessly, and Caden can’t help but lean in further to graze his fingers across his cheek.

It startles him, and his head whips up to stare at Caden.

“Who said I didn’t feel the same?” he says, smiling softly.

Arcann’s eyes go wide and his breath catches.

“...what?”

Caden can’t help but smile wider.

“Wasn’t gonna say anything. You’re a prince and all, figured you wouldn’t be interested.”

Arcann’s shock is starting to melt into something heart breakingly soft, but he needs to make sure there’s no misunderstandings.

“So, yeah... I’ve got feelings for you too.”

Arcann’s end of the bond has gone quiet and he shifts slightly on the couch. Turning more fully towards Caden.

“I’ve… done terrible things, Comman-… Caden, to you especially. I’m not sure how you could have ever come to feel this way about me, but…,” he slides forward across the seat. “if you truly can accept me, I want to become someone you deserve.”

Caden shakes his head and chuckles, “You don’t need to worry about that. I like you the way you are.”

A throb of deep, aching affection ripples through the bond, hard enough to startle a sharp breath out of Caden. Seems Arcann was no longer interested in muffling it, but the warmth flooding through him helps settle that small, anxious part of him that was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The synth-leather of the couch creaks under his weight, as Arcann moves even closer still. Slowly, as if still believing he might be pushed away, he raises his flesh hand to trail his fingers up Caden’s forearm and wrap around his bicep, seemingly steadying _both_ of them.

“This is… unfamiliar territory for me. I’m not sure how to proceed,” he whispers carefully between them.

Caden hums, “We can figure it out together. For now though… wouldn’t mind a kiss.”

It pulls a breathless laugh from Arcann and his smile goes impossibly soft.

“That I can do.”

Then he’s pressing in and slotting their lips together in one quick motion. Caden feels the distant chill of metal fingers slipping up the back of his neck, but can’t even hope to concentrate beyond the hot slide of their mouths.

He pulls Arcann in further, shifting on the seat until they’re pressed tight together, chest to chest. It’s an awkward stretch but entirely worth it to hear the soft, helpless sound in the back of his throat.

Its warm, and soft, and… just… everything Caden ever wanted.

Kiss after kiss bleed together until they’re forced to stop and catch their breath, but he doesn’t let Arcann go far. He keeps him right where he is and rests their foreheads together as they both come down from the high.

 _Fuck, his eyes are blue_ , he thinks to himself, dazedly. Gently stroking his thumb back and forth over the side of his neck as he watches him shiver.

Arcann’s looks up at him and slides his hands up to cup Caden’s cheeks, but as he moves the one from the back of Caden’s head, there’s a sharp yank and he hisses at the sting of pulled hair.

Immediately, Arcann’s face drops in horror as they both see the strands of white caught in the joints of his cybernetic fingers.

“ _Izax_ , Caden. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He shakes his head and quickly shushes him, tugging Arcann’s hand back from where he was trying to hide it and taking care to pick the hair out of the creases in the metal. He didn’t want it gumming up the delicate mechanisms.

He clears it all out, then raises the hand to his lips where he presses careful kisses across metal knuckles. He didn’t know where the sensors were in Arcann’s hand, but from the open, almost vulnerable look on his face, it didn’t seem to matter whether he could feel it or not.

“It’s alright, really. Forget my stupid feet all the time when I kick stuff and wonder why it ends up dented,” he can’t help but laugh a little, “If it makes you feel any better, I can almost guarantee that you’re gonna get scraped by my legs at some point, so we’ll be even.”

It’s clear that he’s still a little upset with the slip up, but he does relax enough for Caden to pull him forward into a hug.

The muscles in Arcann’s back go tense for a heartbeat before he positively melts into his arms, burying his face in Caden’s neck as his arms encircle him. With how much taller Arcann is, Caden has to arch his back a little to fit him under his chin.

The bond mellows out between them, and Caden hums in contentment.

“Quite a pair, huh?”

The muffled laugh he gets in reply is warm against his neck, and Arcann’s grip tightens around his waist.

“That we are.”


End file.
